Requiem for a Bat
by Moose King of the Tetrapods
Summary: Bruce Wayne is dead. Those he left behind are left to work through their grief while also continuing their own investigations and adventures, which seem to be headed towards a common place. Told through multiple POVs. Including Tim, Dick, Damian, Barbara, Commissioner Gordon, Stephanie, and more.


It's dark, even though it's the middle of the day. Not that that's unusual for this city. Sunlight has never been the biggest fan of Gotham. Bruce loved the dark. He chose a cave for his home when he owned a mansion. Some say that he adopted the dark. But that isn't really the case. It would be more accurate to say that the dark adopted him. He was walking through an alley when both his parents were gunned down. The dar was all that was left. He bonded with it. It raised him.

I never could understand what it felt like. To have nothing except for the darkness. I was never alone in that way. I never really let myself be alone in that way. Whenever I felt uncomfortable in my situation I would find myself a new one. I'm resourceful in that way. I'm able to use my mind to get what I want. I've never felt hopeless. Until now.

This isn't the first time he's been dead. It isn't even the fourth. Bruce has died, and he has "died" and he's died again, but he has always come back. I've always been the one who could feel it. I could tell when he wasn't dead, or when he'd be back, even when everyone else called me crazy. This time is different, though. This time, I'm not reading his obituary. I'm writing it.

Last night was among the worst of my life. I had a bad feeling about that night from the beginning. I never thought it would be this. I left my apartment around 7:30. I was investigating a case involving a confusing blur of conspiracy. I had bugged some phones and hacked some emails that lead me to believe that some of the people involved would be meeting at the Big Belly Burger on Main Street. I guess even despicable people sometimes fall victim to fast food.

When I pulled into the parking lot of broken down but still packed restaurant, the sun had just finished setting. I parked my bike as close to the exit as I could. Somehow I could tell I would need to make a quick exit. I got in line behind a middle aged man and his young daughter.

There are two men on the other side of the restaurant at two different tables who keep looking at each other before looking back down at their own food. Those are my guys. It's subtle enough that most wouldn't notice it, but if you know what you're looking for, their seeming inability to decide if they knew each other was suspicious.

The girl in front of me was smiling this huge smile. "I want a chocolate milkshake!" she told her father.

"Of course you do, Constance. I think I'll get one myself, too."

I still had a bad feeling about the night, but in watching that exchange between happy family interaction, I smiled, and even felt like maybe everything would be okay.

That didn't last long, though. By the time I had ordered my double cheeseburger and fries, the two men had finally decided to approach each other. "Hey, Bobby! It's been too long."

I sat down a couple tables away from them so I could hear their conversation.

"How's Susan doing?"

"Pregnant."

"Wow! That's great!"

"Yeah. Twins actually."

"Oh, wow. You guys up for that challenge?"

"We don't really have a choice at this point, Harry."

"That's true. That's true."

"How've you been? Your kids causing you any trouble?"

"No. You know my kids. They're perfect little angels."

"Haha. Yeah, they're usually pretty good. So listen, you want to go to the Knights game Saturday?"

"What?"

"Well, I have two tickets, but I don't think I'll be able to make it cuz I have a lot going on with Susan and getting ready for the babies."

"No! You can't do that!"

"What?"

"I mean, do you really think you're future children would want you to miss a playoff game on account of them?"

"It doesn't matter what they'd want if they were born, I can't do it, Harry. Please take the tickets."

"Okay. Fine."

There was s definitely some kind of code being used here. It wasn't a conversation about pregnant wives and baseball games. But I didn't get a chance to figure out what they really were talking about. My phone went off in my pocket. It was Damian.

 _Drake, come immediately 911._

I didn't even finish the rest of my burger. I knew it must be important if Damian was contacting _me_.

He's asleep on the couch now. It took him a long time to get to sleep, but eventually he passed out. I haven't been able to sleep at all. I've been working on this obituary for the past few hours straight. I don't know how to tell the world that Bruce Wayne is dead. They never knew the Bruce I knew. They knew Bruce Wayne the millionaire who owns half of Gotham, and they knew Batman the masked vigilante who took care of it, but they aren't aware of the complex man who existed behind both of them. And they never can be made aware of him. So I'm essentially left writing an obituary for someone I never knew.

"You can take a break if you want, Master Tim." I didn't even hear him coming. Alfred's fancy shoes usually make a very distinctive sound on the hardwood floors of Wayne Manor. The echoes can be heard from the other side of the house. I remember that sound always being comforting to me. It would let me know I'm not alone, that someone who cares about me is just down the hall. "This happened suddenly for all of us. There's no rush to get a notice in the paper."

"I don't know what else to do, Alfred."

"I assume you can't sleep, either. Would you like some tea?"

"Yeah, that sounds great." As he starts towards the kitchen I realize why I didn't hear him coming. Alfred is walking around the manor in his socks. "Actually, Alfred, you don't need to do that."

"It's okay, Master Tim. I'm going to make some for myself anyway. There's no reason not to make an extra cup."


End file.
